D-Day
Like every year, this time too my happy birthday landed on 24th Nov. All the 'anticapation' and excitement is now over. My arse hurts a bit, not because I sit on it all day long, but because of the N number of boots that got a chance to kiss it on that eventful day.
It was a decent morning, and I was amongst the first few guys to arrive in a dimly lit office. Soon my inbox was inundated with mails with warnings in them. Never in my life had I read such well crafted mails. Short. Laconic. Intimidating. Don Corleone, learn.
No sooner did I get off the phone with my friend, I found myself being escorted by 20+ guys to a remote place. I kinda felt like MJ, you know how people are always out to get him for all the reasons,good and bad. That was my 2 sec of fame. Next thing I knew my butt was making a lot of new acquaintances. I could totally relate to Bond in Casino Royale.
Finally the session ended, but I never told them anything. Just like the movie. Nor did they ask anything. Unlike the flick. As I doddered back to my cube, my friend in a very nice manner urged me to join him for coffee on the terrace, which was a trap. Again I was kicked to death. The whole morning went on like that. People would come by, wish me, pop in a coupleasweets, and kick me arounf like a cheap whore and that too for FREE!
The next day I was dragged by my friend to college to apparently collect our marks card, which again was a trap! Yes how gulible of me. After another round of boots, making it 6 in total, I really began to felt the pain on my right bun. For some funny reason, all the bumps I got were from the left side. But I guess the cakes, yea, cakeS, one in office and one in college, made up for most of it.
One thing that annoys me the most is my name begin misspelt. My name is spelt as Shalabh. Usually one of the h's gets knocked off, and most the last one. So here I am screaming "cake! cake! cake!" and out comes this real swell litchi cake with read "Happy Birthday Shalab". What the... !
I can't see my name being thrashed around like that.
Shalabh is real kewl name. Its got a lovely philosophical meaning to it.Its unique. A guy who happened to have my name(Grrrr!) apparently used to get clobbered by his girl for his name and he happened to read my interpretation of the name Shalabh and then wrote back to thank me for now his girlfriend stopped teasing him about his name and infact respects him and loves him twofold.
So here I am with such an awesome name that commands respect(read incident above) and these people thrash my ego with "Shalab". One of the biggest insults that you could do to a man is misspell his name or mispronounce it. So what do I do ?
Nothing.
Just cut the cake as quickly as I could and enjoyed it to fullest and now bitch about it in some devoid place.
As the eventful day was nearing its demise, I was walking with my friend and when I realised how duped I was.Those cheeky guys had included the cake bill along with my treat. So infact, I had actually paid for my name to be spelt wrong!
It was a decent morning, and I was amongst the first few guys to arrive in a dimly lit office. Soon my inbox was inundated with mails with warnings in them. Never in my life had I read such well crafted mails. Short. Laconic. Intimidating. Don Corleone, learn.
No sooner did I get off the phone with my friend, I found myself being escorted by 20+ guys to a remote place. I kinda felt like MJ, you know how people are always out to get him for all the reasons,good and bad. That was my 2 sec of fame. Next thing I knew my butt was making a lot of new acquaintances. I could totally relate to Bond in Casino Royale.
Finally the session ended, but I never told them anything. Just like the movie. Nor did they ask anything. Unlike the flick. As I doddered back to my cube, my friend in a very nice manner urged me to join him for coffee on the terrace, which was a trap. Again I was kicked to death. The whole morning went on like that. People would come by, wish me, pop in a coupleasweets, and kick me arounf like a cheap whore and that too for FREE!
The next day I was dragged by my friend to college to apparently collect our marks card, which again was a trap! Yes how gulible of me. After another round of boots, making it 6 in total, I really began to felt the pain on my right bun. For some funny reason, all the bumps I got were from the left side. But I guess the cakes, yea, cakeS, one in office and one in college, made up for most of it.
One thing that annoys me the most is my name begin misspelt. My name is spelt as Shalabh. Usually one of the h's gets knocked off, and most the last one. So here I am screaming "cake! cake! cake!" and out comes this real swell litchi cake with read "Happy Birthday Shalab". What the... !
I can't see my name being thrashed around like that.
Shalabh is real kewl name. Its got a lovely philosophical meaning to it.Its unique. A guy who happened to have my name(Grrrr!) apparently used to get clobbered by his girl for his name and he happened to read my interpretation of the name Shalabh and then wrote back to thank me for now his girlfriend stopped teasing him about his name and infact respects him and loves him twofold.
So here I am with such an awesome name that commands respect(read incident above) and these people thrash my ego with "Shalab". One of the biggest insults that you could do to a man is misspell his name or mispronounce it. So what do I do ?
Nothing.
Just cut the cake as quickly as I could and enjoyed it to fullest and now bitch about it in some devoid place.
As the eventful day was nearing its demise, I was walking with my friend and when I realised how duped I was.Those cheeky guys had included the cake bill along with my treat. So infact, I had actually paid for my name to be spelt wrong!
posted by Shalabh at 9:37 PM
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